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A

Drop of 

Water hangs

On the end of a

Faucet until it snaps

Free; falling through eternity,

Not knowing that its singular loneliness

Is something of wonderment for the small

Boy watching a lifetime fall back into

The pool of sameness, clear

blue ripples forever

now still.

Dark Age

old age is distant

from me

yet Donne has told me

not to worry

about the tolling

of the bells

or the desiccated opossum

that I pass

every day to work

or my dog injected

on the sterile stainless-steel table

or the cancers that have invaded

my grandmother's intestines

and lungs—

how death's durian fingernails

scrape my bare shins asunder

reminding me—

or how when I skulk

nearer to happy pigeons

they scatter

and the moment is dead

like paper

yet I assure myself

I have time

Outside, a light grey ash is falling from the sky like rain.

I hurt, I gasp

for breath.

Onto the silver, moonlit snow,

between the idea and the reality,

I am

     gently elevated from what

          in truth is our dismal world

               on the white cloud of a well-meant delusion.

Anything to take my mind away

     from where it's supposed to be.

Could these sensations make me feel

     the pleasures of a normal man?

The question is detrimental,

     paralyzing my thoughts.

I see her—

was beautiful

but nothing really was there.

Sakatani and I

Sometimes Sakatani walks alone at night among the drunk couples and party goers and bar hoppers and the poor homeless until I stop and wonder where I was headed to in the first place. I look around and see things I like: the bright lights that make me small, the people acting out HBO-mini series in front of clubs, and the bouncing bounding sound of life off the glass and concrete walls. He shares some interest in what I like and has arrested images onto paper, but nothing comes close to answering the questions that hang in the back of my head like gangsters in an alley, like "where must I go?" and "who must I be?" Perhaps I should not worry, I will die, and he will live among these pages somewhere. I give myself to his cause piece by piece, even though I know he is apt to lie and contort meaning and confuse bonito with bonita. When Sakatani writes I see fata morganas of myself over the horizon of ink, but as much as I try to leap out of him, I must remain. I tried to free myself long ago like Siddhartha, but I landed back within. So, I must write and write and write to shed everything and everything into forever nothing until I flake away and all that is left is him.

Love on The Line

Love me until you obliterate me

Said the mountain to the rain

Its sands flowed to the shore

These telephone lines drip heavy

With your words compressed

The message arrives faster than I

And the hearts drawn with snow

Melt before spring

Between your fingers and the water

Between the ocean and the shore

There is a boulder eroding

Desiccated by the sun and worn by the water

Find me there looking dumb

Exit Sign

I exit into the world

The trees let their tongues slip

I reach into my throat and pull out a part of me

But it puddles through my fingers onto the sidewalk

You and me eat ramen in the city

Watch the dark waves punch the rocks after

Santa is drunk on the beach

Walking to my car the smell of exit signs reach me and

A dead cat poses in vogue and reminds me

Of words not said but felt

Alone

©Tyler Sakatani

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